...

Shen Jiao was carried along by the vendor. He seemed to be very familiar with Shengcheng, never passing through crowded or wide streets. He was like a nimble mouse, weaving through narrow alleys.

Every turn the vendor made sent chills down Shen Jiao's spine.

With such a sharp bend, a perfect 90-degree turn into the wall, she was terrified of accidentally bumping her head.

Just as she feared, her head slammed against the corner of the wall with a thud, and a lustrous hairpin flew out with it.

Shen Jiao winced in pain: "..."

Seriously, this is ridiculous. If you're going to capture them alive, can't you at least have some sense of safety?

If you're not good at your job, don't go into kidnapping!

Go back to selling your candied hawthorns!

To be honest, this is the worst injury she has ever suffered since she transmigrated here.

If he suffers a concussion, I wonder if the young doctor would be able to treat him.

She doesn't want to become an idiot, you know.

Just then, the vendor who was doing parkour in the thunderstorm suddenly stopped.

Shen Jiao thought the vendor had a change of heart and wanted to check her injuries, but she was mistaken.

The vendor stopped because another group of people suddenly appeared in front of him.

With her eyes, which had been washed by the rain for almost an hour, Shen Jiao could tell that the newcomers were hostile; they were a group of men in black wearing ghost masks.

She had seen this kind of outfit before.

On the day of the goddess's sacrifice, these black-clad men with ghost masks were the goddess's people.

The vendor, as if facing a formidable enemy, retreated several steps.

Shen Jiao: "..."

Holy crap?

What are you giving up? You're not even in cahoots?

That's outrageous.

At this moment, Shen Jiao felt like she was a piece of top-quality pork belly, wanted by everyone, and everyone wanted to slaughter her, but thankfully she wasn't being shared.